Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I am not Irish. But anyone who has laid eyes upon my Beloved Bonehead knows beyond doubt he is, from his red hair and freckles to his ability to burn every time he spends more than 5 minutes in the sun-even while sitting in a car. The money I've spent in sunblock over the years is another blog post entirely. And I won't even begin to go into his superhuman metabolism for whiskey.

I am beginning to wonder if (living in close proximity to my Irish hubby) the luck of the Irish has rubbed off on me lately, for I experienced a new bout just today (pay no attention to the fact that I dropped the eggs I bought at the store this morning and broke half of them). This morning, when I went online one last time to get Bonehead's personal grocery list, I had a message waiting for me.

Sandi from Lucky Thirteen Plus One had a gracious giveaway on her blog, and I am the winner. I won a $100 certificate to Amazon.com! I have been a reader of her blog for a few months now, and I admire her for her ability to keep her sanity while being the mother of 14. Thank you, Sandi.

And now for the next installment of my most embarrassing moments...

I worked for a wonderful company as a temporary employee for a full year, but alas they didnt have a permanent opening for me. My daycare situation changed and I found myself giving notice because 85% of my paycheck was going to daycare costs. 6 months later, there was an opening within the company, my former supervisors let me know, and I applied and got the job.

It was a marketing position, and I absolutely loved my job. I already knew 98% of my coworkers, how the company worked, and it was like being home again. As part of my duties, I worked closely with the company salesmen across the country. I had contact mostly through email or phone, and every once in a while I would meet a couple of them as they flew into town for various training programs.

The company hosts a meet and greet dinner once a year in the spring (among other things) and as part of the marketing department, I was invited. The dinner is held at a local bar that I had not been to. I soon learned they were famous for their fried potato salad.

Normally, this type of social situation would be the source of at least a week's worth of anxiety because I am beyond shy with people I do not know. If I know you, look out, but if I don't know you, I clam up pretty tight. But I knew some of the people at this dinner, and I'd planned to go along with a couple of girlfriends from work, so I at least would have the company of friends and feel more comfortable.

Although I do drink occasionally, I don't drink often- mostly due to the fact that I have a very, very low tolerance. And due to the fact that my father died in a drunk driving accident when I was young, I never ever drink and drive- not even one drink. On this particular evening, i worked out an agreement with Bonehead for him to drop me off and then pick me up at a certain time so I could just relax and enjoy myself. I would be able to partake in free drinks after all.

So I arrived and ordered a margarita (oh how I love a good margarita), and relaxed with my girl friends and met some of the salesmen and got to match up some faces with the names. Dinner was taking a while, so I ordered another drink and laughed and talked and was social. Others at my table ordered another round, so hey, what the heck, I did too. After all, I wasn't driving.

Soon (three drinks for those who haven't been counting, but in my defense it was three on an empty stomach) my cheeks began to feel light. I became a bit giddy and was, well, quite happy to say the least. But I was trying desperately not to show how much of a light weight drinker I was. So, I ordered one more with the intention of not touching it until dinner was on the table.

Dinner finally arrived, in buffet style. I got up and made myself a hamburger with all the fixings, grabbed some fruit salad, some of the infamous potato salad I'd heard so much about, and settle back down to enjoy. There were oohs and ahhs from every side of me, and I agreed. The burgers were awesome,and the potato salad was fan-tas-tic.

When I was about 3/4 of the way through my burger, I realized something was off. I looked down at it and saw cheese, tomato, onion, lettuce, ketchup, and wait....I turned it around so I could look from a different vantage point....did I just really....

I glanced around to see if anyone had noticed my close inspection of my burger, but no one seemed to notice. Slyly, I used my thumb to pull up on the top half of the bun to gain a better glance inside...

THERE WAS NO HAMBURGER IN MY BURGER!!

And not only had I eaten 3/4 of it before I noticed, but I oohed and ahhed about how darn good it was too!

I quickly ate the rest of my burger so that no one would notice my lightheaded error and told no one, until I got home and confessed to Bonehead. Who laughed for quite some time at my expense.

I kept it a secret until the next year when It was time for the dinner again. I finally fessed up to my coworkers, who thoroughly enjoyed razzing me for it.

Happy St. Paddy's Day everyone, drink safe and remember to put your paddy on your burger...

This is adorable! Oh, and get this! I am still margarita-free! When I went out with my girlfriend a couple weeks ago, we nded up ordering sangria instead. As luck would have it, after a couple, I was able to feel my way around my plate and still found my burrito!

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About Me

35 and preparing to begin a new chapter in life as the single Mom of two beautiful boys. I'm approaching each day as a new beginning and still embracing the laughter it brings. And also, I am destined to be eternally pale.